


hypothetical

by keishn



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Falling In Love, Feelings Realization, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Light Angst, M/M, Miscommunication, Mutual Pining, POV Alternating, background Gladnis - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-28
Updated: 2018-08-30
Packaged: 2019-06-17 09:48:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15458685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keishn/pseuds/keishn
Summary: IS THE CROWN PRINCEYOURPRINCE CHARMING? (pg 56)Prompto buys a teen magazine after seeing Noctis on the cover, mostly just to give his best friend a hard time about it. There's an advertised quiz inside, one that's premise makes Prompto laugh, so he has to take it. It's just a bit of silly fun. He doesn't expect the quiz to tell him that that he and Noctis are a perfect match and that Noctis could bein lovewith him.





	1. Chapter 1

Prompto can’t believe his eyes.

He blinks twice and then rubs them, and then he even squints, but what he’s seeing is very much there in front of him. Unless he’s hallucinating, _Noctis Lucis Caelum_ is on the cover of a magazine aimed at teenage girls. How did that happen when Prompto can barely get his best friend to be in his own photos? And Prompto’s photos aren’t nearly as campy as the cover of this magazine. Prompto wonders if he should tell Noct he's insulted and use it to guilt trip him into agreeing to do a photo shoot for him.

In the photo Noct pouts in a very Instagram-model manner, but Prompto’s pretty sure that’s just a mix of Noct being tired and unwilling to cooperate, his natural ability to look good no matter what expression he wears, plus some poor magazine employee having to spend hours in front of photoshop so that they don’t make the Crown Prince of Lucis look like a total douchebag.

He wears _colors_ — not just black, white, or gray— which is very _not_ Noctis, but Prompto doesn’t think that was by choice. Prompto would ask why Noct failed to mention that he was fucking posing for a teen magazine cover, but he’s pretty sure he already knows the answer. Prompto wouldn’t ever let him live it down.

But now Prompto’s found out anyway.

He briefly skims the words on the cover; different mini-headlines in block letters advertise articles, and interviews, and— 

In bright blue lettering, overlapping Noct’s elbow where it juts out to one side, Prompto reads the most hilarious thing he’s ever had the fortune to see in his life.

**IS THE CROWN PRINCE _YOUR_ PRINCE CHARMING? (pg 56)**

Prompto can’t help himself. He laughs and snatches the magazine off the rack. He brings it to the front counter— Noct’s already up there, handle of the bag undoubtedly filled with unhealthy snacks around his wrist, phone in hand as he texts someone or other or scrolls through Instagram or something— and nearly slams it down, forcing his laughter under control.

“Is that all?” the cashier, a middle-aged woman with a round face and crow’s feet near her eyes, asks.

Prompto nods. “Yup.”

At this point, Noctis seems to notice what his best friend is up to because Prompto hears him groan. “Really, dude?”

“Really, dude,” Prompto replies, grinning at Noct who rolls his eyes.

Prompto hands the gil over to the cashier as Noct complains about “embarrassing” and “didn’t want to” and “seriously?”

“But you did,” Prompto replies, “and you didn’t even tell me, so—” Prompto pauses. Has a realization. He sends Noct a sideways glance, eyebrows raising slightly, as they exit the convenience shop. “ _Please_ tell me that Iggy and Gladio don’t know either.”

Noctis groans again. “You’re the _worst_ ,” he says, but even he’s smiling a little now, so Prompto takes that as a win.  He also assumes it means that Iggy and Gladio _don’t_ know, and Prompto really can’t wait to see the look on both of their faces.

“Are they still coming tonight?” Prompto asks.

Noctis nods.

“Oh perfect. Then all four of us can take the quiz.”

“What quiz?”

“ _Dude_ , the quiz.”  Rather than tell Noctis outright, Prompto taps the teal block letters on the cover with his index finger.

Noct reads it while they walk and immediately he scrunches his nose a little. “What the…” he mutters, more to himself than Prompto, probably. “Well, that explains all the questions about what I’m _looking for_ in a romantic partner.” Then he shakes his head. “All four of us? You want me to take a quiz about myself?”

“It’ll be _fun_ ,” Prompto says.

“You think everything is fun.”

“Says the guy who likes _fishing_.”  Prompto hits his shoulder against Noct’s, and Noct stumbles sideways a bit, clearly not anticipating it.

Noctis doesn’t have any defense for that apparently, because he says nothing. It’s a bright afternoon, rays of sunlight streaming past the edges of the tall buildings that make up the Crown City. Warm as it is there’s a slight breeze that keeps the heat from making Prompto sweat as they walk back towards Noct’s apartment.

There’s a few other people walking along the sidewalk. Noct has a tendency to walk fast, regardless of whether they actually have somewhere to be, so it’s not surprising when he huffs impatiently as they end up stuck walking behind a lady with three children, two holding each of her hands and a third holding one of the other children’s hands.

Prompto grins and the back of his hand brushes against Noct’s.

Noctis glances at him. “What?”

“Oh, hmmm— nothing,” Prompto replies with a grin.

Noct shakes his head but smiles back.

A few minutes later, Noctis turns the key in the doorknob of his apartment and pushes through. Prompto sighs in relief at the rush of cool air from the air-conditioning that’s been on inside the apartment.

“It’s so dark in here,” he says, stepping into Noct’s kitchen and pulling the string to open the shades.

“You made me get up to hang out with you,” Noctis replies.

“It was almost one when I texted you!”

“Exactly.”

Prompto rolls his eyes and finds a seat in a plush armchair with his feet up, legs crisscrossed. He’s pretty sure it isn’t proper etiquette, but Noct’s taken up the whole loveseat by himself, lying with his feet hanging off the arm of it.

“You better not fall asleep,” Prompto says.

Noctis makes a sound that tells Prompto he’s heard, but that he isn’t really listening. Prompto reaches down to the floor, where the living room pillows Noctis no doubt did not buy himself sit, and then throws one at his best friend.

“Okay, okay,” Noctis says, shifting so that he’s sitting up. “I’m not falling asleep.”

Ignis and Gladio arrive shortly after, and the four of them spend the evening mostly shooting the shit with each other. Noct puts something on the TV, but none of them really watch it. At some point, Noct breaks out his bag of snacks, and Ignis predictably insults his eating habits, and Noct ignores it.

It isn’t until Ignis stands up and says something about having an early start tomorrow that Prompto remembers the magazine.

“Wait,” he says, “Did you guys know—”

He cuts off and gets up to find it. Gladio protests, “Can’t just say that and then literally walk away mid-sentence,” but Prompto ignores him. He finds the magazine tucked between the arm and the cushion of the chair he had been sitting on earlier and then returns to where the others are and puts it face-up in front of Gladio and Ignis.

Three things happen simultaneously. Gladio laughs, and Ignis raises his eyebrows and says, “Noct…,” and Noctis groans.

“I was hoping that you forgot,” Noctis says.

“How could I forget this, buddy?”

“Yeah,” Gladio says, eyebrows lacing together, “how _could you_ forget?”

“Can we not talk about this tonight?” Noct asks.

“It looks like it might be a long story, so I’m going to have to agree with Noctis,” Ignis says. “Seeing as I was already on my way out.”

After Gladio and Ignis say goodbye, Noct looks at Prompto. “I’m getting pretty beat, too. You staying over?”

Prompto shrugs. “I mean, I wasn’t planning to.”

Noctis hums, thinking. Then he says, “Did you at least turn on the AC at your house before you left this morning?”

“No,” Prompto says, slowly.

“Then you’re staying over,” Noctis supplies for him.

“Okay,” Prompto says, grinning at his best friend.

#

Prompto wakes up the next morning on Noctis’ couch, neck and back angry at him. Light streams into the room from the windows in the kitchen that he opened yesterday. They had never closed them, and Prompto’s surprised that even Ignis didn’t notice they were open once they turned the lights on it was dark outside. For a Prince who likes privacy, Noctis doesn’t really think all that much about taking the measures to keep it.

It’s eight, which is far too early for Noctis to be conscious yet, so Prompto rolls over to his side and scrolls through Instagram for a few minutes before giving up on that. He notices the magazine on the coffee table and grins to himself as he remembers finding it on a magazine rack at a convenience store the previous afternoon.

 **IS THE CROWN PRINCE** **_YOUR_ ** **PRINCE CHARMING? (pg 56)**

Oh, yeah. The quiz. Prompto grabs for the magazine and opens it to a random page. He has to flip through a bit to find the quiz, and then when he does he laughs at how simple the questions are. It’s ten questions and multiple choice.

“No margin for error there,” Prompto says, laughing to himself.

Prompto doesn’t have a pencil or a pen, but it’s only ten questions so it’s not impossible to keep track of the answers in his mind. He answers all the questions easily, mostly going with his instinct. He has a feeling he knows what the answers to get the _ideal_ result are. After all, he knows Noctis better than anyone.

Big romantic gestures and high maintenance stuff? That’s not Noct. At least that’s not Noct his best friend. Noctis Lucis Caelum, Crown Prince has other priorities. Prompto is pretty sure none of those include spending a long time getting his apartment ready to romance a girl.

Prompto laughs, if only the girls taking this knew how messy Noct’s apartment is. Heck, Noct has never really even talked about girls in their whole time as friends. Prompto knows that Noctis and Luna and friends, but Noctis has ever indicated he feels anything more than that towards the only girl besides Gladio’s little sister that Noct has ever mentioned.

The quiz goes so far as to even ask about favorite color. But since it’s multiple choice and Prompto’s favorite color isn’t there (really all of these options have been _close enough_ at best), he just goes with yellow since it makes him think of chocobos. Noct would probably go with black, or gray, but those aren’t options, so he’d settle for blue.

Prompto’s sure of that.

Prompto finishes the quiz. He skims down to the results and finds _If you picked mostly C…_ and he almost doesn’t read it. After all, it’s a silly quiz in a magazine written by someone who’s maybe had a five-minute conversation with Noctis at most. He almost doesn’t read it.

Still, he shakes his head. He’s just having fun. And he spent the last few minutes actually reading all the questions and picking answers so he might as well just read the thing, if only to see what someone who barely knows Noct thinks that liking the color yellow has to do with the Crown Prince of Lucis falling in love with someone.

Shaking his head, Prompto turns his attention back to the results paragraphs.

_If you picked mostly C…_

_CONGRATS! You two are a perfect match! You’re a sunny personality and exactly what the Crown Prince is looking for. You and Prince Noctis complement each other well, and before you even realize it he’ll be totally head over heels for you!_

Prompto thinks that maybe he should find this result amusing, but instead, he feels uncomfortable. His heart beats too fast in his chest and it’s _stupid;_  it’s just a silly quiz it’s not serious. It’s not like Noct would ever _actually_ fall in love with him.

He laughs aloud if only to force himself to brush it off, and fiddles with his wristband.

All the results probably say something similar. Right? Isn’t that how these things usually go. Prompto quickly skims through the others, and…

 _If you picked mostly A…_ _You and Prince Noctis could never even get along, never mind fall in love..._

_If you picked mostly B… You and Prince Noctis would make great friends! But nothing more than that…_

_If you picked mostly D… You and Prince Noctis are more like brother and sister…_

He doesn’t need to read the entirety of them to get the gist and— Well, it shouldn’t change anything that they don’t all say the same thing. The quiz is just a silly marketing tactic to get teenage girls to buy the magazine that has the prince on the cover of it.

Still, Prompto’s gut twists.

Prompto tries to rationalize it, even though he knows it’s a stupid quiz and it doesn’t need to be rationalized. He and Noct are best friends.  In high school people constantly mentioned how the two of them were inseparable. So maybe the quiz is right, in a way, just... minus the romantic aspect.

It’s probably best that he doesn’t tell his best friend that a silly magazine quiz thinks that they’d make the perfect couple.

#

“Turns out we’re not compatible, buddy. Maybe Gladio can be your knight in shining armor.”

Noctis snorts. “Well, he is my Sworn Shield, so—”

Prompto laughs at the imaginary concept of Gladio being someone’s knight in shining armor. Knight in leather, maybe. Though that makes him sound like a stripper which is even more ridiculous and something Prompto doesn’t want to think about.

Noct has just woken up. His hair stands in about thirty more directions than usual, and he’s yawning while pouring himself a bowl of cereal, and Prompto can’t help himself.

“Smile, buddy,” he says, taking a few pictures of his friend, ignoring Noct’s protests. Prompto grins at his handiwork. “Oh, these are going to make great blackmail one day.”

Noctis groans. “ _Dude_.”

Rather than walking like a normal person, Noctis hops over the back of the couch and slides down into the seat next to Prompto. He places his bowl of cereal on the dark wood of the coffee table, then he grabs the magazine off it.

He shakes his head.

“Why would Noctis Lucis Caelum agree to be featured in a teen magazine?” Prompto asks.

Noctis puts the magazine down in his lap and leans his back over the top of the couch. “I was probably half asleep when they called to ask if I would do it. I might have said yes just so they’d stop calling.”

“How’d they even get your number? I thought Ignis handled all that stuff.”

Noct rolls his eyes. “A few always slip through. It’s not like it’s exactly difficult to find with the right internet subscriptions.”

“So you agreed to be in a teen magazine because you wanted to go back to sleep?”

Noct knocks his shoulder against Prompto’s, exhales through his nose like a laugh. “Shut up.”

“Nah,” Prompto replies.

Noct settles back into the couch and flips open the magazine. A few minutes pass in silence, and Prompto watches his best friend read through the quiz about himself. He looks at Noct’s dark eyelashes slanted towards the page, the rise and fall of his chest,  the bridge of his nose, straight and regal and— 

Two realizations hit Prompto in the face. First, his best friend is going to be the _King of Lucis_ one day. Second, Noct is beautiful. Prompto blinks, surprised by his own line of thought and quickly looks away from Noctis.

“Well,” Noctis says, putting the magazine back on the table, pages open. “It turns out I’d be a terrible match for myself, too.”

Prompto tries to laugh and still doesn’t let himself look at Noctis. “Ha… yeah… you and you are just too similar.”

“Prom…” Noctis starts. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Prompto says, and now he forces himself to look at Noct. Nothing has changed, not really. Noct still looks like he just got of bed and his hair is kind of silly, really. His eyes are too deep, too intense now that Prompto’s looking at him differently. “Yeah,” he repeats. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Noct narrows his eyes, and Prompto tries to grin, tries not to squirm under _his best friend’s_ gaze. His best friend who is one day going to be the fucking King of all of fucking Lucis. His best friend who is maybe one of the most beautiful people he’s ever laid eyes on and– 

Well, Prompto’s _known_ those things for a while. Somewhere in the back of his mind. Sure, Noct is Prince. Sure, Noct is attractive, even if Prompto isn’t _attracted to_ him. And the first thing, the realizing Noctis is going to be king, well that doesn’t change anything.  Prompto knows that his friend will probably be the best king that Lucis has ever seen. He has exactly zero doubts about that. And realizing it suddenly has him feeling even more loyal to Noct, something Prompto didn’t even think possible.

But the second one. Well, it’s tripping Prompto up. He likes girls, and Noctis is his best friend, and he’s going to have to marry a woman and continue the royal bloodline and— 

“Prompto,” Noct says, grabbing his shoulder. “Breathe.”

Prompto hadn’t even realized he wasn’t. He takes one slow breath. And then another.

“Sorry, Noct,” Prompto says. “Kinda got stuck in my head there.”

“Yeah, clearly,” Noct says.

He removes his hand from Prompto’s shoulder, uses it to run his hand through Prompto’s hair. Prompto’s sure it feels tacky from leftover product that he slept in overnight in, and he probably looks just as ridiculous as Noctis, but he takes a breath anyway. As soon as Noct’s hand pulls away he realizes with a pang that he misses the contact.

“You wanna talk about it?” Noctis asks.

Prompto shakes his head. “Nah, it’s uh— it’s nothing. I don’t want to bother you with my problems.”

Noctis frowns. “It wouldn’t be _bothering_ me, Prom.”

Prompto isn’t sure what to say, really, but he thinks he needs to go home now. “I— uh— Sorry Noct. I’m just gonna go home and chill there if that’s okay.”

“Yeah,” Noctis says. “Okay. If you’re sure.”

Prompto nods, probably too quickly. “Yeah,” he says, “I’m sure.” He stands up. “See ya, Noct.”

“Yeah,” Noct says, and Prompto doesn’t miss the hint of concern in his voice, but still he doesn’t turn to look at him. “Bye, Prom.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was gonna be a fluffy one shot and then, bc of who i am as a person, i was like... but... we love angst 
> 
> this is more of a preview chapter to see if this is something people would be interested in reading bc.... i already have WIPs in 2 other fandoms and i really _shouldn't_ add a third but... i really _want_ to. lmfao. so if you'd like to see more of this plz let me know so i can rationalize continuing it to myself.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Why wouldn’t I want you here?” Prompto asks.

Gladio bangs on the door three times as Noctis worries his lip between his teeth. The shades are all closed, otherwise Noctis would look through them. Prompto hasn’t been answering Noctis’ texts all day— well all afternoon since Noctis only dragged himself out of bed at one o’clock, and it’s barely seven now.

Prompto’s house might be empty, there’s no way to tell really. Noctis had warned him that he was showing up with Ignis and Gladio and, well, he’s worried.

“What if he doesn’t answer?” Noct says.

Gladio gives him a look. “What do you want me to do? Break his parents’ front door down?”

“Prompto wouldn’t just _not_ respond to my texts,” Noctis says.

Still, the sun is beginning to set, gleams of light bounce against the window on the white front door. And after the abrupt exit yesterday, Noct’s sure that something’s wrong. Whatever it is, he just hopes Prompto’s okay. But it’s difficult to reassure himself when Prompto has never failed to reply to a text from Noctis. Sure there’s been times when he’s left Noct hanging for an hour or two— due to homework, or video games, or something else— but he’s never gone radio silent.  

“You sound pretty sure of that, Princess.” Gladio replies. Noct glares at the teasing. “Maybe he’s just busy. I’m sure he’s fine.”

“He didn’t mention anything,” Noctis says. He frowns, and he thinks stubbornly to himself that Prompto definitely would have told him if he had something him tying him up for the entire afternoon.

“Or,” Ignis says from behind them, “he could simply be ignoring you.”

“Ignoring me?”

Ignis sighs. “It would be... _unusual_ for him, but are you sure you didn’t say anything that accidentally offended him? Did he seem okay when he left your apartment?”

Noct pouts. Prompto had been acting a little off after Noctis woke up and joined him on the couch. Noctis thought everything was fine but then Prompto looked at him in some way like— like maybe he was seeing Noctis for the first time ever. Things had been a little awkward.

But Noctis hadn’t said _anything_ really.

“He did leave abruptly. And he was— he seemed _upset_ about something? I don’t know, I’m just _worried_.”

Ignis hums. “I think—” he starts, but he’s cut off when the door to Prompto’s house opens.

“Uh— hey,” Prompto says, scratching at the back of his neck.

Noct lets out an exhale, relieved that his best friend is okay. But then, if his best friend is _okay_ that means that maybe Ignis was right and Prompto was _ignoring_ him, and now Noct’s overreacted and shown up unannounced at his house.

Well, not exactly unannounced. Noctis had texted an hour ago, _Should I come over?_ And when that got no response he texted again, _I’m coming over with Gladio and Ignis._ And, well, now Prompto probably thinks Noctis is neurotic on top of whatever else he thinks after yesterday.

“You had Prince Charmless worried sick and all you have to say for yourself is ‘ _uh hey_ ’?” Gladio says, tone threatening.

Prompto blinks, blue eyes widening, and he looks at Noct. “You were actually worried? I thought that text was just—” He stops speaking and shakes his head.

“Nevertheless,” Ignis says, “I’m sure you’d like to explain to Noct here the reason for your absence.”

Prompto laughs, nervously. “Uh, yeah, so—”

“I’m sure it’s something between the two of you,” Ignis says. He looks at Gladio, pointedly, who seems a little annoyed to be leaving. Probably, he’d like to see all this awkwardness for his own entertainment. He concedes though and then the two of them head back to the car, and Noctis stands at the doorstep alone.

“Can I come in?” he asks when Prompto says nothing.

“Oh, yeah, of course.”

It’s humid inside Prompto’s house. Not as humid as outdoors, but certainly the air feels a fraction more humid than inside Noct’s apartment or the citadel. Prompto’s hair is loose, and he’s wearing loose maroon pants that hang slightly askew on his hips with a black tank top.  It’s nothing special. Noct’s mouth dries, and he has to force himself not to stare at his best friend’s ass as he closes the front door anyway.

“So,” Noctis says, blinking as his eyes adjust to the lack of natural light. “I guess. You were just ignoring me?”

Prompto sighs. Shakes his head. “I mean... in a way?”

“Did I do something?” Noctis asks.

At this, Prompto laughs lightly. “Nah, bro. It’s not your fault. It’s… well, it’s my fault.”

“What’s going on?” Noctis asks. Prompto bites his bottom lip like he’s considering saying something. “Come on,” Noctis say, hoping to sound encouraging, “you can tell me anything.”

Prompto’s silent for a moment. Noctis wants to reach out, trace along his freckled-covered cheeks. He wants to lean in and kiss him, and the urge in this moment is so strong for some reason. Stronger than it’s ever been. For a split second, Noctis entertains the idea and then Prompto breaks the silence.

“Not this.”  Prompto’s lips curve upwards slightly and he exhales through his nose. He meets Noct’s eyes briefly before looking away.

Noctis is Crown Prince of Insomnia. If his title is good for anything besides unasked-for responsibilities, it should be able to fix his best friend’s worries. Noctis would do anything if Prompto only asked. If Prompto only told him what’s bothering him.

“Prom,” Noct says, but he knows better than to push the subject. He leaves it with, “If you change your mind, I’m here.”

Prompto nods, but he still looks kind of sad. It’s gone a split second later, though. He grins wide at Noct, pats the side of his arm, and says, “Come on, let’s play a round of King’s Knight.”

#

They sit in the living room eating microwave dinners. Noctis knows Ignis would scold him— both of them— could he see this culinary betrayal, but Ignis isn’t here and what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.

Noctis hasn’t brought up the reason he showed up at Prompto’s door in the first place again, and since they played a few rounds of King’s Knight, Prompto’s been fine.

“Wanna watch a movie or something?” Prompto asks.

Noctis waits until he’s chewed and swallowed before saying, “Yeah.”

“Cool,” Prompto says with a grin.

Noctis can feel energy running through him, and he doesn’t deny himself from leaning closer to Prompto so their shoulders touch. Prompto tenses, and Noct pulls back. He glances at his friend. Prompto’s jaw remains tight.

“Is something wrong?” Noctis asks.

“No, it’s—” Prompto says.

He doesn’t complete the thought, instead deciding on a movie for them to watch. Noctis doesn’t even notice what movie it is, too caught up in watching his friend. Touches between them are casual. Prompto has never tensed up like that before and…

Noctis tries not to freak out, really he does. But it’s kind of hard not to go into an internal panic when he realizes that Prompto must have figured out that Noctis loves him. That Noctis is _in love_ with him. Why else would he be uncomfortable with Noctis’ touch?

Rather than watch the damn movie that Prompto put on, Noctis sits and worries about whether his best friend is about to reject him. Whether romantic rejection or rejection of everything their friendship is, Noctis doesn’t know. He wonders how Prompto will do it; what he’ll say. Noctis can’t imagine Prompto being _cruel_ even if he’s grossed out by Noctis now. Maybe that’s why they’ve been hanging out; Prompto’s trying to work up to an easy letdown, using their time together to soften the blow.

But he could be overreacting.

To test the theory, Noctis leans his head against Prompto’s shoulder, adjusting his position so it won’t hurt his neck. Again, Prompto tenses up. Stubborn, Noct refuses to move. If Prompto tells him they can never hang out again after tonight— which, actually maybe he was trying to tell Noctis exactly that by ignoring him— he at least wants this.

Noctis isn’t quite sure how much of the movie has passed, or even how long he’s been fretting over his own feelings being found out. The room around them is dark. The glow of the television screen lights up Prompto’s freckles, his blonde eyelashes, his high cheekbones. Noctis wants to lift his head up, to place his hand on the back of Prompto’s neck, to kiss his best friend until they’re both breathless.

Absolutely pathetic.

He shifts his head slightly, to look back at the movie and at least pretend to watch it. He’s hyper-aware of the moment Prompto relaxes, the moment part of his cheek rests against Noct’s head. Prompto’s hesitant, like any sudden movements will startle Noctis. It’s all so hesitant that Noctis wonders whether Prompto just does so to appease him, but by the time the weight of Prompto’s head settles against him, he feels Prompto’s shoulder relax as well.

An explosion sounds from the speakers on the TV. Noctis blinks. There’s some cheesy lines of dialogue and then Noctis can’t take anymore.

“Prom,” he says, savoring the closeness, not moving his position.

“Yeah, buddy?”

“You know I would never,” Noctis starts. He pauses, sucks in a breath and then lets it out. “You know you don’t ever have to do anything for me, right? I mean just because I’m the Crown Prince.”

“I—” he starts, but quickly changes his mind. “Where is this coming from?”

“If you didn’t want me here today, you could have told me to leave. You know that, right?”

Prompto shifts and Noctis is forced to sit up with the motion. Prompto pulls his knees up, feet pressing against the edge of the couch cushions. One arm drapes over the upper knee. He gives Noctis a look, like he’s worried about where this is going.

Frankly, _Noctis_ is worried about where this is going.

“Why wouldn’t I want you here?” Prompto asks.

“Well,” Noctis says, “you just— I mean I figured since you were ignoring me, maybe you just were trying to get rid of me.”

“ _Me_ get rid of _you_?” Prompto’s voice cracks slightly like he can’t believe the assessment. “Noctis you’re… you’re _you_ , and I’m just well… _me_.” He grabs for the remote and rather than pause the movie he just turns off the TV entirely. The only light comes from the edges of the shades, the yellow incandescence of a street lamp.

Noctis doesn’t say anything. He gulps and he’s not quite sure what to say.

“Why would I want to get rid of you?” Prompto asks.

“I figured maybe… maybe it’s too much for you? Being friends with me, I mean.”

Prompto looks away for a moment. He shakes his head. “That’s not why I wasn’t replying to your texts. And— and yeah, being friends with the Crown Prince can be a lot sometimes—” He looks up, offers Noctis a small smile. “— but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to be your best friend.”

Noctis exhales. So Prompto doesn’t know, then. Still, part of Noctis almost wishes that Prompto _did_ know, that he had figured it out. Keeping the fact that he’s in love with his best friend a secret from said best friend is tiring. And if Prompto knew there’s the chance that maybe…

No, Noctis can’t let himself hope for that.

“So then,” Noctis says, “Why didn’t you reply?”

“Because—” Prompto starts, then he bites his lip. He tries again after a moment. “I just wasn’t feeling great.”

Noctis straightens his back. “Are you sick?” he asks, bringing the back of his hand to Prompto’s forehead.  

It’s too dark to notice the pink that tinges Prompto’s cheeks.

“You don’t feel warm,” Noctis says.

“I didn’t mean I felt _sick_ ,” Prompto says. “I just meant… well, it doesn’t matter.”

“It doesn’t matter?” Noctis asks.

Prompto nods. “I’m sure it doesn’t. I feel totally fine now.”  He grins, and Noctis’ stomach flips as he grins back.

“Good.”

#

“How’d it go?”

Ignis stands in the kitchen, stirring a pot, and Noctis hopes this means he’s almost finished cooking breakfast. Noctis would still be asleep if he hadn’t woken up and heard a sound from the kitchen; a sound that very clearly meant Ignis was cooking eggs and toast.

“Where’s the bacon?” Noctis asks, rather than respond to Ignis’ question.

Ignis sighs. He sees through Noct’s avoidance because he’s Ignis, so of course he does. “What happened?”

Noctis shifts his weight between his feet, scratches at the back of his head. “Nothing happened—” True enough. “— but I’m worried that he knows.”

“I assume you’re talking about Prompto?” Ignis asks.

Noctis doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t tell Ignis he’s wrong either. Ignis is used to Noct’s style of communication— which is to _not_ communicate more often than not— that he simply assumes he’s right.  

“Did he say that he knew?”

Noctis shakes his head. “He didn’t say that but— I mean he obviously wasn’t super comfortable having me over. Maybe he knows. Do you think I should have just minded my own business? He didn’t deny ignoring me.”

Ignis sucks in a breath.  Noctis waits while the other man thinks and pushes his glasses up his nose. He wishes he just knew what to do in this situation.

“Have you considered just telling Prompto how you feel?”

“Absolutely not,” Noctis says.

Ignis turns back to the stovetop, unbothered by this. He takes the fried eggs off the pan with a spatula and moves them into plates, and then gives each plate two slices of buttered toast. He slides one plate across the counter to Noctis. He chews thoughtfully on a piece of toast from his own plate.

“Well,” he says, finally, “I don’t think there’s any reason for him to _know_. Perhaps there’s something else that’s bothering him. Did you consider just asking him what was going on?”

Noctis pushes a derisive breath through his nostrils. “I’m not an idiot, Ignis; of course I asked him. He just didn’t seem to want to talk about it.”

“Well, then perhaps it’s best you just leave it alone.”

Noctis sighs.

“If it’s any consolation, I highly doubt it’s about you. And if it is I’m sure Prompto will come to you when he’s ready.”

“I’d rather he’d just get the rejection part over with,” Noctis replies flatly.

Ignis’ expression tightens. “I highly doubt that’s what’s happening here. You said yourself he hasn’t told you what’s bothering him, it’s best not to stress too much over it. Just let him know that you’re there for him.”

Noctis already has done that, but that doesn’t mean he’s not going to stress.

He reaches for a bottle of honey and pours strands of it out onto his toast, and he doesn’t need to look up to know that Ignis watches his movements disapprovingly. Ignis would prefer that Noctis use fruit jam, probably, which is sweet but is also made from _fruit_. And fruit makes Noctis think of vegetables.

Plus, it’s not like he’s just pouring a tablespoon of straight sugar on top of his toast. Honey has its own distinct flavor. Plus, it’s the unfiltered honey from the farmer’s market that Ignis himself picked up— so it can’t be all that bad for him.

“If I weren’t here I have a feeling you’d be using maple syrup,” Ignis says.

Noctis scrunches his nose as he sops up the runny yolk with the honey topped toast.

“Or the artificial pancake syrup that they have at the Crow’s Nest diners.”

This, Noctis does not deny. He does have a weak spot for sweet breakfast foods. Honestly, if he could eat waffles with fries, he’d do that for every meal. Well, maybe not _every_ meal. He can’t afford to let his body go when it’s one of the few things he has going for him vis a vis: Prompto’s attention.

Assuming Prompto is even into guys.

Which, _oh Astrals_ , he might not be. If that’s the case, no wonder he’s not talking to Noct.

Ignis sighs. “You’ve got that look in your eyes that you’re worrying again.”

“Not worrying,” Noct says.

“Noctis,” Ignis says, “perhaps you should simply tell Prompto of your feelings. At the very least, it will put your mind to rest—”

“But—”

“— and if he doesn’t return them, I’m sure the two of you can work it out.”

Noctis thinks that Ignis is right. Ignis usually is right after all, and this time is unlikely to be any different. He knows Prompto; he knows Prompto isn’t the type of person to just end a friendship over something like this. Things might be awkward for a bit, but eventually they won’t be.

Eventually, after Prompto rejects him, Noct will be able to move on.

“Okay,” Noctis says, “I guess I should just… get it over with.”

Ignis tilts his head but doesn’t say anything else on the matter, clearly appeased that Noctis has agreed with him.

#

Prompto ends up at Noct’s apartment. Noctis had texted him saying there was something he wanted to tell him, but since Prompto has arrived all they’ve done is sit on the couch with their legs tangled playing King’s Knight.

Noctis supposes it’s a good sign that the casual touch doesn’t seem to bother Prompto anymore. Maybe that was just a freak thing. An odd one-off caused by whatever it was that was actually bothering the blonde.

“I’ll be right back,” Prompto says, standing up from the couch. He looks down. “Oh man, was I sitting on this the whole time?”  He leans sideways and grabs the magazine off the couch with on hand. “Ha! Didn’t even notice this.”

Noctis hadn’t noticed it either. He waits for Prompto to close the bathroom door behind him, then he grabs at the magazine. He re-opens up to the quiz. He remembers one result saying that the reader was meant to be with Noct or something equally ridiculous.

_If you picked mostly C…  CONGRATS! You two are a perfect match!_

Noctis goes through the questions from last to first, trying to work out what answers Prompto might have picked when he read through it two mornings ago.  The only question Noctis can’t answer for Prompto is _Pick the cutest Chocobo_ with four different pictures of the ridiculous bird because Prompto himself wouldn’t be able to choose between them. _All of the above_ isn’t an option.

After, Noctis might be more confused than before, but he’s sure Prompto didn’t pick the same answer Noct himself did. Which means he wouldn’t have got the same result as Noct. Which means he was lying. Noctis blinks twice and starts reading through the questions again.

“That full of yourself, huh?”

Noct jumps, the magazine falling from his lap.

Prompto laughs. “Didn’t mean to scare you, bro.”

Noctis lets his head fall back, and he looks up at Prompto. His best friend grins back at him, though he does have a spark of mischief in his eyes. So he absolutely _did_ mean to scare Noct.

“You’re the worst,” Noct says, fondly.

“Yeah, but you love me,” Prompto says, teasing.

Noct’s eyes widen. Everything freezes. Prompto doesn’t say anything either, and all Noct can think is: _He knows. He knows. He knows. He knows_.

“Uh—  No I don’t,” he articulates.

Prompto’s eyebrows draw together. “I was just—” He brings a hand to the back of his neck.”— joking, buddy.”  

He looks hurt, almost. But that doesn’t make any sense. Prompto doesn’t want Noct to be in love with him.

“Right,” Noctis says.

He’s not sure what else he can say. _You love me,_ _No I don’t_ , isn’t exactly how he was planning on this night going, but he was caught off guard.

Prompto walks around the side of the couch and sits down, as close to the opposite arm as he can. He looks far less comfortable than when they were playing King’s Knight, just minutes ago.

“You said you wanted to tell me something?” Prompto asks.

Noctis was going to tell Prompto the truth: he’s sort of a little bit in love with him. He can’t very well do that now after the whole _No I don’t_ incident. Astrals, Noctis is really bad at this. But now Prompto has put him in the hot seat and Noctis has to tell him _something_.

“Ignis and Gladio are dating,” Noct says.

A completely baseless lie, but it seems like something big enough that Noctis would want to tell Prompto in person.

Prompto’s head jerks back to Noct. “Seriously?”

Noct nods, “Yeah. I know it’s crazy.” And also not true.

“About time, though—”

 _Wait, what?_  Noctis has to sell it, so he tries not to let his confusion show on his face.

“— Was kind of getting sick of all those pining looks Gladio was sending Iggy every time we all hung out.”

Noct hums. “I never noticed.”

“Dude, he’s _not_ subtle,” Prompto replies.

Noctis probably never noticed because he was too busy sending pining looks of his own. Prompto doesn’t say anything about it though, probably to save him the embarrassment. He thinks maybe he should pay more attention to Gladio and Ignis next time they’re all together and—

Well, shit. Noctis probably just put Gladio in a super awkward situation because he was too caught up in his own shit. He really _is_ the worst friend. Still, Noct decides to wait until _after_ training to tell Gladio because he might not be so forgiving with a greatsword in his hands. He probably won’t be so forgiving without one either, but at least Noct’s survivability probably is markedly greater.

Noct leans back into the couch, returning to their King’s Knight game. “Oh, by the way, I’m winning right now.”

A gleam shines through Prompto’s eyes at the challenge. “Nuh uh, dude. I’m about to beat my personal best.”

Noct lets out a laugh when he looks at Prompto’s score. “Really?”

Prompto pouts, freckled nose scrunching up, and Noct tries not to think about how cute it is. Everything is back to normal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prom ofc would notice gladio's crush on ignis but not noct's massive crush on himself, lmfao. also yikes anyone wanna bet on how badly gladio's gonna actually try to kill noct? (spoilers: he won't, but the thought will tempt him)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He pauses, runs his hands through his black hair. “I’m not ready to talk about it yet."

Prompto lounges on Noct’s bed while Noct gets ready for some princely duty or other. It’s rare that he ends up in Noct’s room rather than the living room and kitchen area, but Prompto’s finally started to feel relaxed around Noct again, and he it’s not like any harm will come from indulging himself.

Nothing’s ever going to happen between them.

Which is— well that’s just how it is. Since realizing that, Prompto’s felt far less tense around Noct after thinking that _maybe_ there might be some feelings there. The feelings don’t matter, though. Not when nothing can come of them anyway. For one thing, Noctis would never have feelings for Prompto in return (what does a random Teen magazine know about anything anyway?). For another, Noctis is _Prince_ _of Insomnia._ Prince of all Lucis. Prompto can’t just... What? _Date_ him?

No. This crush will pass. Most of his crushes do. And it’s not like it’s anything serious. Noct is his best friend and a guy, and yeah that’s a first, but that doesn’t make it weird.  It’ll pass just like all his hallway crushes on girls he didn’t talk to in high school.

“Are you staying here?” Noctis asks, stepping out of the bathroom.

Prompto shrugs, doesn’t bother to get up from where he is on the bed. “If it’s okay. I’d rather not follow you around in the citadel like a lost puppy.”  He pauses. “Was your bed always this comfortable?”

Noctis rubs at the back of his neck and shrugs.

Prompto isn’t sure what to make of Noctis’ behavior today. Either Noctis is acting weird, or Prompto is just paying more attention than usual because of the whole maybe having a crush on him thing. He takes a half second to wonder if pointing this out will give himself away.

Still, he asks, “Is something wrong, buddy?”

Noctis blinks looks up at Prompto and offers him an uncomfortable grin. It’s the kind of look he makes whenever Prompto points a camera at him.  While in that situation Prompto would usually find the look amusing— and okay, yeah, cute as heck— right now it’s out of place.

“Everything’s fine,” Noctis says, avoiding Prompto’s eyes.

Prompto frowns. “No, it’s not.” He watches Noct, who shifts uncomfortably under his gaze. “Are you afraid to tell me to just go home? You can just tell me if you’re sick of having me around, dude. I’ve been here since like noon.”

Noctis shakes his head. “Nah, it’s okay. I have training with Gladio after the meeting with my dad though, so I’ll be back later? You can do whatever you want here.”

Prompto grins. “Okay!” He pauses, tilts his head. “You’re sure you don’t want me to just get out of your hair though? Maybe it’s best if I just go.”

“No,” Noctis says, almost even before Prompto finishes his thought aloud. “No, I don’t want you to go. I want—”  He pauses. “I want you to stay here. Unless you don’t want to.”

This isn’t the first time that Prompto’s stayed at Noct’s apartment when Noct’s gone to tend to royal obligations. Honestly, Prompto might even be more comfortable here than his own house at this point.

Prompto yawns, stretches out. “I’ll probably just hang out and play King’s Knight or something.”

“Ignis should be over soon anyway,” Noctis says.

Prompto stands up and grins, wiggling his eyebrows. “Oh, I cannot wait to ask him about Gladio.” Prompto’s happy for their two friends, but he’s sure Ignis will find being poked about their relationship annoying. Which means Prompto definitely has to do it. He can already hear Ignis’ voice making some dry comment in response to Prompto’s prodding.

Noctis interrupts his thoughts. “Uhhhh,” he says. “Not sure if that’s such a good idea.”

“Why not?”

“Because—” Noctis stops abruptly.

“Because?” Prompto asks. He waits for a response, eyebrows pulling together. It isn’t like Noctis to keep secrets from him. Besides the big royal things that he doesn’t talk about— and which, honestly, Prompto would almost rather not know about— he always tells Prompto everything. And Prompto’s pretty much always told him everything too.

Save the crush and the glaring secret underneath his wristband. The crush seems like more of a betrayal right now. The barcode might be nothing. Prompto wonders if maybe he should tell Noctis that he has feelings for him, if only to get them out in the open.

After having a few days to think it over, he’s sure that Noctis wouldn’t be disgusted by it. In fact, maybe they could just laugh about it and move on, and then Prompto could get over it that much faster. Things might be weird for a couple weeks, but Prompto’s sure that afterward everything would go back to normal.

He should just say it now, while he’s considering it—

Before Prompto can act on impulse, Noctis finally explains himself. “They told me not to tell you,” he says in one breath.

It takes Prompto a second to realize he means Gladio and Iggy.  “What?” Prompto asks, pitch rising, cracking slightly at the top. He’s really a little offended. “Why not? Do they think I don’t know how to keep my mouth shut?”  Prompto pouts.

“No,” Noctis says, “that’s definitely not it.”

“Do they think I won’t get it because they’re both guys or something?”

“Um, I don’t think so. But— like— would that be a problem?”

Prompto rolls his eyes, hits Noct on the arm. “Obviously not. Dude, I told you I was getting sick of Gladio’s pining looks. I’m just genuinely happy they finally got together.”

“But like,” Noctis says, “hypothetically… if someone— a guy— if a guy had a crush on you… would that be a problem?”

Prompto blinks. He’s not quite sure what Noctis is saying, but he’s also not a complete idiot. “No,” he says. “Well, maybe if it was someone who poached chocobos for a living I wouldn’t be too thrilled by it, but.”

Noctis shakes his head, but there’s a smile on his lips— a real one this time— when he says, “That’s where you draw the line?”

Prompto pretends to think for a moment, then he grins. “Yup. That’s it. That’s where I’ve set the bar.” He pauses, frowns. “So then why didn’t they want me to know about them though?” He runs a hand through his hair before dropping it to his side. Suddenly he feels far too self-aware. He knows that they’ve known Noctis their whole lives, but he really thought that they were beginning to consider Prompto a part of their group.

“They uh—” Noctis starts, and pauses. Prompto picks up on it. “They wanted to be the ones to tell you. When you had the chance to see them both.”

Prompto tilts his head. “We were all just together here the other night.” The night with the magazine. The night before Prompto realized that maybe he did want to be the perfect match for Noctis, and maybe it was nicer than it should be to imagine that he might be exactly what his best friend wants in someone.

“Well, they only just told me the day after. When you weren’t answering your phone.”

Prompto flinches. “Right, right. Sorry, again, for that. It was… kinda shitty of me.”

Noctis shrugs, avoids eye contact. “It’s fine, I’m sure you— have your reasons.”

Prompto starts to tell him everything. “I just had to figure something out, and—” Prompto pauses, biting his lip. He curls his fingers into his palms.

He’s not quite sure how to word it. “And I did figure out and—” Prompto forces himself to laugh, even as his heart tries to break out of his ribcage. “— it’s sort of funny, actually—”

“Shit,” Noctis says. “Sorry, Prom, I’m gonna be late. I have to go.”

“Oh,” Prompto says.  “Yeah, right. Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Noctis says. He smiles, and for a moment Prompto thinks that maybe Noctis’ gray-blue eyes can see straight to his heart anyway. Maybe he doesn’t even need to say anything. “I want to hear what you figured out, but—”

“Yeah, I get it.”

“You’ll be here when I get back?” Noctis asks.

Prompto nods. “Yeah, I’ll be here,” he says.

Noctis nods, then he leaves his bedroom. Prompto stands there, watching the spot his best friend was just in, even as he hears the door to the apartment shut.

///

“What’cha making?” Prompto chirps.

Ignis jumps lightly at the interruption. He turns around from the stovetop, placing a cooking utensil that Prompto can’t name down on the counter, and looks at Prompto, hands on his hips. Prompto can tell by the downward angle of the corners of Ignis’ lips that he’s trying to look disapproving. He has to try not to laugh at how Ignis might just be the most motherly figure he’s ever known— including his own (largely absent) mother.

“It’s rude not to announce yourself when you enter a room,” Ignis says. “Or an apartment. When exactly did you get here?”

Prompto shrugs, looks up to the corner with his eyes and taps his chin thoughtfully. “Around noon.”

Ignis blinks twice, leans back slightly. “Ah,” he says, “I see.”

“So,” Prompto says, sauntering over to the counter and taking a seat at one of the barstools. He tries to play it cool, but Ignis just watches him like he already knows where this is going. “Do you have something to tell me?”

Ignis exhales through his nose. “Do _you_ have something to tell me?” he retorts.

That isn’t the direction Prompto expected this conversation to go in. What would he have to tell Ignis? He’s not the one in a relationship he hasn’t told one of his friends about. He pulls his eyebrows together and scrunches his nose.  “No,” he says, “but I’m pretty sure you have something to tell me.”

“And what exactly do you think it is that I have to tell you, Prompto?”

Prompto sighs. Honestly, this is all Noct’s fault. If Ignis and Gladio wanted to tell Prompto themselves then Noct should have stayed out of it. And Prompto isn’t sure whether Gladio is coming over tonight after he and Noct finish training together, or if it’s just going to be three of them. And Prompto doesn’t really want to have to wait for all four of their schedules to line up again to ‘officially’ know about Gladio and Ignis finally getting together.

“First of all,” Prompto says, “what are you cooking for dinner? Because it smells delicious.”

“Ah,” Ignis says. “Noctis told me you would be joining us so I’m making green curry.”

Prompto grins, his eyes light up. “Really?”

“Well, His Highness requested it specifically for you. Speaking of,” Ignis says, “are you quite certain you have nothing to tell me?”

Prompto nods. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure I’d know if I had something to tell you, dude.”

“And I you,” Ignis counters. “I assure you, I have no idea what you’re expecting me to tell you.”

“Oh, come on, Iggy!” Prompto says, “Noctis already told me. I know he said you guys wanted to tell me yourself, so I was giving you the chance to be in charge of this conversation but—”

“Noctis told you what, exactly?” Ignis says.

“You know,” Prompto replies.

“I really don’t.”

Prompto lets out a long exhale. “About you and Gladio! I’m sorry, I probably should have waited to let you guys tell me how you were planning to but— I guess I’m just too excited. I’m so happy for you guys! I already told Noctis, but it’s about time you two finally got together.”

“Interesting,” Ignis says.

He says nothing else, so at length, Prompto asks, “What’s interesting?”

“Well, the fact that you seem to thing Gladio and I are _involved_. And your choice of a certain word. What do you mean ‘finally’?”

Prompto blinks. “You guys aren’t together?”

Ignis shakes his head and sighs, drops his hands to his sides. “No,” he says, “we’re not.”

“Then why did Noctis tell me that you were?”

Ignis pinches the bridge of his nose and then turns back to the stove. Rather than pick up the utensil he was using before he pulls a wooden spoon out of a drawer. Without turning around he asks, “When was this, exactly?”

“Uh… the night before last. It was kind of strange that he needed to tell me in person now that I think of it.”

“He needed to tell you in person?” Ignis asks, glancing over his shoulder.

Prompto nods, leaning his elbows against the counter in front of him and rounding his back slightly. “Yeah,” he says, “Noct texted me like ‘I have something important to tell you, can you come over today?’ and we mostly just hung out but when I asked him what it was he had to tell me he froze up and then kinda just— told me that you guys were dating.”

Ignis trains his eyes back on the stove, so Prompto can’t make out his expression. “I see,” he says.

“Noct seemed pretty convinced though. He told me that you guys didn’t want him to tell me, but…” Prompto trails off. If Ignis and Gladio didn’t want Noctis to tell Prompto about them, why would he ask Prompto to come over just so that he could tell Prompto about them in person?

“I suspect,” Ignis says, “that he has something else to tell you. Or rather, he has something to tell you, and it’s the same thing as before, but this time hopefully he tells you the real thing…”

Prompto tilts his head. “Do you know something?”

Ignis glances back at Prompto again. He shakes his head, but Prompto thinks he’s catches something in Ignis’ eyes. He’s not quite sure how to decipher it. Mischief? A cousin of mischief maybe?

“I have no idea what Noctis could have to tell you,” Ignis says.

“Maybe it’s not relevant anymore,” Prompto muses. “I don’t know why he would lie though. He still could have just told me.”  

When Ignis doesn’t say anything to that, Prompto’s sure that’s all he’s getting from him. Granted, he hadn’t expected to need to get anything from Ignis besides an admission that he and Gladio were together. But they’re not together. And they never were, from the sounds of it. Still, now he wonders what Noctis didn’t tell him the other night.

Before Prompto can dwell too much on it, the apartment door swings inward and Noctis drags his feet through the threshold.  He groans, loudly as he flops down on the dark red sofa.

“Oh, don’t be such a—” Gladio says as he follows Noctis in. He cuts his words short when he sees Ignis and Prompto. “Ah, hey guys.”

“Hey, Gladio!” Prompto greets.

“Hey, blondie,” Gladio replies.

He wonders whether Gladio knows that Noctis has been spreading lies about him and Ignis. From the shape Noct seems to be in after training, Prompto has the sneaking suspicion that he does.  He suspects it might be a little awkward, being told that your idiot friend told your other idiot friend that you and your crush are dating when you’re not in fact dating.

Prompto thinks he probably wouldn’t enjoy it, were the roles reversed. He’d probably be freaking out that Noctis would figure out the truth— or that Noctis already _did_ know the truth. Really, Prompto should have known it was a lie when Noctis seemed surprised at the fact that Gladio had been very noticeably pining after Ignis for way too long.

Gladio plays it far cooler than Prompto ever could though. “Specs,” he says to Ignis, “if we have to eat one of Noct’s shitty fried dishes—”

“I’m making curry,” Ignis interrupts him.

“Oh,” Gladio says. He pauses. “Good.”

Now isn’t the time to confront Noctis about lying, Prompto thinks. He’ll have to wait until it’s just the two of them.  Prompto looks at Noct, who’s carefully avoiding his gaze. Gladio sits next to Prompto at the counter and asks about his day.

///

It’s later, after Ignis and Gladio have left and Noct’s told Prompto he can sleep over if he wants, that Prompto broaches the topic. Dinner hadn’t been too awkward, all things considered. Tense, maybe, but certainly not _awkward._ Gladio and Ignis hadn’t seemed uncomfortable anyway, which made Prompto a little less annoyed with Noct for lying to him.

Right now, they’re sitting against opposite arms of the sofa. Prompto’s legs are curled up, and there’s a few of room between them. Some horror movie is on the TV screen— a cheesy one that’s written so poorly it’s more funny than scary— and it ends with the entire world ending.

The credits roll and Prompto speaks up. “Uh, Noct?”

“What’s up?” Noct asks.

“Why did you say that Gladio and Ignis were together?”

Noctis inhales sharply. Prompto hears it even with the music from the credits blaring from the speakers Noctis has set up in his living room. (Prompto helped him set it all up their last year of high school and has been jealous of it ever since. He doesn’t really have the funds to indulge in a new sound system for his parents’ home.)

“What do you mean?” Noctis asks.

“Noct,” Prompto says, and the name sounds almost like a plea.

“Are you mad? That I lied?”

Prompto lets out a long sigh. He looks towards the TV, even though he doesn’t really care about watching the credits. “I don’t know,” he says, which is the truth. “How about you tell me why you lied and then I decide whether I’m mad.”

When Prompto glances over at Noct, his lips are pressed together. He’s not looking at Prompto. There’s a moment where Prompto isn’t sure whether Noctis will say anything at all. And then he speaks. “I, uh— I realized I couldn’t tell you the other thing after all, so I panicked.”

“What other thing?” Prompto asks.

“What I was really going to tell you,” Noctis says, vaguely.

“Uh huh,” Prompto says, slowly. He’s trying to understand, really he is.  “Look, Noct I’m not mad I’m just. I don’t understand why you would lie about something like that. Especially when it’s pretty obvious how Gladio feels.”

Noctis shrugs. “I don’t think he’s the only one.”

“You think Ignis likes Gladio?” Prompto asks before he realizes that Noct’s probably trying to distract him. He shifts in his place on the sofa so his feet hit the ground.

“Maybe,” Noct says.

This conversation isn’t supposed to be about Gladio and Ignis, though. It’s supposed to be about Prompto and Noctis and the fact that Noctis lied. “Look,” Prompto says, “I get that I’m just some commoner who happens to be friends with you. So I know I probably don’t get all the royal stuff, but—”

“That’s not it,” Noctis says.

He shifts, too, and now they’re looking at each other. Prompto feels his heart skip a beat, despite the fact that he should probably be a little more disappointed in the fact that Noct doesn’t trust him. Apparently, he doesn’t trust him to such a large extent that he’d go out of his way to lie about Gladio and Ignis being together.

Prompto’s face must give away his frustration with himself, because Noct says, “It’s, uh— it’s about me. But I don’t—” He pauses, runs his hands through his black hair. “I’m not ready to talk about it yet. I thought I was, but then... I realized I wasn’t.  And then when you asked me what I had to tell you I just spoke without thinking.”

“I get that,” Prompto says, folding his hands between his knees and moving his gaze to his own interlocked fingers. His brow furrows. “But why go along with it earlier? When you told me that they wanted to tell me about it themselves?”

Prompto looks up to see Noctis shrug and look away. “I uh— I thought you’d be mad if you figured out I was lying.”

“Noctis,” Prompto says. It’s rare that he doesn’t shorten his best friend’s name. Noctis still doesn’t look up though. “I was bound to figure it out. The only people I see nearly as regularly as you are Gladio and Iggy.”

Noctis doesn’t say anything for a moment, and Prompto thinks maybe he won’t say anything at all. So Prompto says, “You know you can tell me anything right?”

Noctis looks at him again, finally. Prompto’s breath catches in his throat and he can feel his pulse in his fingertips. This crush is getting ridiculous. It’s _Noct_. Prompto’s never felt like this around him before, so the fact that this is all happening is kind of silly. It’ll pass, he’s still sure of that, but for now, he feels a little off-kilter.

After exhaling audibly, and glancing away again, Noctis says, “This isn’t just anything.”

“Okay,” Prompto says, even though he’s hurt by the fact that Noctis— his best friend— doesn’t seem to trust him enough to tell him whatever is. Prompto fingers his wristband, it’s kind of hypocritical of him to be disappointed for Noct not telling him everything.  “Okay,” he says again, this time he sounds more believable to his own ears. “It’s fine, Noct. You don’t have to tell me everything, obviously.”

“Prom,” Noctis says, voice barely more than a sigh. “That’s not what I—”

“Please don’t keep making excuses. It’s fine, really. I get it.”

“Okay.” Now Noctis doesn’t sound very convincing, and Prompto picks up on it but he’s still too caught up in his own thoughts to care. Before Prompto can think too much about it, though, Noctis stands up and grabs the remote to turn off the TV.  “I’m gonna go to bed I think.”

“Okay,” Prompto says.

Noctis stands there, looking at him for a moment. Prompto thinks he’s going to say something else.  Prompto’s heart does that stupid thing _again_ , but then Noct just sighs and heads toward the bedroom.

Prompto doesn’t even know what it is he’s anticipating.  Nothing’s ever going to happen between them. That’s just how it is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter was completely different from what i had outlined for it lmfao. i blame the last chapter because noct batting over 400 on avoidance required me to deal with the fallout of his lie which was not in my outline for ch 2 and kinda just happened? but. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Noct isn’t quite sure what possesses him to keep going, other than maybe sheer stupidity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> big happy birthday to noctis lucis caelum: disaster gay extraordinaire

“Noct,” Ignis says as he steps through the door into Noct’s apartment. A bright trapezoid of light opens onto the carpet with the door only to be swallowed once more as Ignis closes the door behind him. “This was stuffed into your mailbox. You really should check your mail daily.”

Noct glances at Ignis from where he reclines on the red sofa, eyes peeking up over the back of it. When he spots what Ignis has in hand— a glossy magazine, folded in half from being fit into his mailbox along with loads of other junk— he hops up from his position and walks around it to snatch the item out of Ignis’ hands.

“Really,” Ignis says, “it’s like you purposely pretend that you know nothing about proper manners.”

Noct ignores him in favor of thumbing through the issue of InsomnArt— passing different sketches, watercolors, digital art pieces, and photographs— until he lands on what he’s looking for. It’s a two-page spread, a photograph the Insomnia skyline.

A photograph he’d asked Prompto if he could keep a few months ago. Prompto grinned and said, “You really like it that much?” to which Noct nodded and pretended that his heart didn’t thrash in his chest as their fingers brushed when Prompto handed it to him.

“Isn’t that Prompto’s photo?” Ignis asks, pulling Noct’s mind away from the memory, head bent down to get a closer look at the spread. “Good for him. Perhaps we should invite him over? All four of us could have dinner to celebrate his accomplishment.”

Noctis shuts the magazine.

“Noct,” Ignis says, but it’s a question more than anything else.

“He didn’t submit the photo,” Noctis says. “I did.”

“You submitted the photograph to InsomnArt?” Ignis asks, eyebrows raised.

Noctis says nothing.

“Ah,” Ignis says. It’s really unfair how well he can read Noctis after all these years. He’s sure that Ignis probably knows most of Noct’s secrets before he himself knows them. “I suppose it should be a candlelit dinner for two, then?”

Inexplicably, Noctis’ cheeks heat up. He’s sure he’s bright red. What’s a romantic gesture between bros? Just a gesture. There’s nothing romantic about it, Noct tells himself. He just wanted to do something nice for his friend, help his photography gain a little bit of notoriety. The fact that Noct also happens to be in love with said friend is purely coincidental.

“No dinner,” Noctis says. “I know you, Ignis. Prompto will come over and ask ‘What’s this?’ and I’ll have to—”

“Tell him the truth?” Ignis (unhelpfully) suggests. “Noct, with a gesture like this, you finally have the opportunity to come clean about your feelings for him.”

“The magazine’s folded,” Noctis says, like maybe that’s enough of a reason to _not_ do what Ignis thinks he should.

And what does Ignis know about this stuff anyway? As far as Noct’s aware, Ignis has never dated anyone. And as professional as Ignis likes to act, he and Noct _are_ — to some degree— friends. Surely he’d tell Noct something like that?

Ignis doesn’t argue the point further. Noctis wonders whether he’s just too exasperated with Noctis’ inability to face his own emotions or if he believes that he’s done all he can. Instead, Ignis pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose and says, “Well, in that case, I’ve found a new bean recipe I’d like to try tonight. Maybe Gladio will join us.”

Noct’s eyes slide over to his advisor. He’s been on edge whenever Ignis or Gladio mention each other, ever since Prompto pointed Gladio’s obvious pining. And, really, Noct doesn’t see how it _could_ be one-sided. Not when Ignis casually mentions Gladio as often as Gladio mentions Ignis.

He doesn’t know how he didn’t pick up on it before.

“No visceral reaction to the word _beans_?” Ignis asks. “Something’s clearly on your mind.”

“It’s nothing,” Noctis replies, too quickly.

He puts off having to answer any further line of questioning by picking his phone up from where it sits face-down on the coffee table. He dismisses a few notifications— calendar reminders about meetings going on in the Citadel that his dad already told him not to worry about— and opens his text thread with Prompto.

        **Noctis:**  u home?

Prompto’s replies almost instantaneously.

        **Prompto:** yea! whats up?

        **Noctis:** i have something to show you

        **Noctis:** can i come over?

        **Prompto:** sure thing bro!

“I’m going out,” Noctis says, standing up, grabbing the magazine from where it lays on the couch next to him.

“To Prompto’s?” Ignis guesses.

Noctis groans, loudly.

“Just be back in time for dinner,” Ignis tells him. “Like I said I’ve got a new bean recipe I’d like to try.”

“Yeah, you know what?” Noct says, slipping his feet into his white canvas sneakers. “I think I might just grab a burger with Prompto. Gladio can be your lab rat for the bean thing.”

“Have fun on your date,” Ignis teases.

Noctis reaches the door, swings it open, and groans again at the mention of beans on his way out of the apartment.

///

Noctis completely ignores Ignis’ advice. Rather than make it a huge deal, or even just a deal, he plays off the InsomnArt mag spread as a casual thing. He hands the magazine over to Prompto when he arrives at his house, and then just says, “What have you been up to today?”

Prompto glances at the magazine in his hands, back up at Noct, and then back down at the magazine before answering as they walk into the living room. “Oh, nothing, really. Just edited some photos, watched videos of baby chocobos—”

Noct smiles at that.

“— and went for a run earlier. I don’t know. Just kinda chilling before work tomorrow. So, uh, what was it you wanted to show me?”

Noctis tilts his head at the magazine in Prompto’s hands, taking a seat in one of the scratchy couches. The furniture in Prompto’s house isn’t at all comfortable— not compared to Noct’s apartment— and he suspects that Prompto’s parents didn’t care what furniture ended up in their house since they spend so little time home anyway.

Prompto sits next to him, the seat cushions dipping slightly at the added weight. Bending the edges of the magazine back, Prompto flattens it as much as possible before opening to the first page.

Noctis could say something, but he wants Prompto to be surprised, so he lets him look through the magazine one page at a time. His cheeks and chest heat up as Prompto gets closer to the pages his spread of the Insomnia Skyline appears on, the sound of the glossy pages rustling in the background.

“Oh my gods,” Prompto says, as he holds the magazine, pages stretched out with his photograph fully on display. “Oh my gods! Noct! This is my photo! Holy shit. I never thought I’d— How did I— How did _you?_ Noctis, you did this for me?”

Noctis rubs at the back of his head. “Yeah,” he says, and he’s sure his cheeks are red so he doesn’t meet Prompto’s eyes. “I mean…” He means what? That he’d do anything for Prompto? (Well, he would.)

“Bro! I can’t believe this! I never thought I’d ever see one of my pictures in a magazine like this! How’d you get them to publish this?” Prompto’s grinning wide, his eyes not leaving the magazine as he speaks.

“I—” Noct shifts uncomfortably. He tries again. “The parent company of InsomnArt owns that teen magazine. And….” Noctis trails off.

Prompto looks up from the magazine, tilts his head, question in his eyes.  “You asked them for a favor since you did that photoshoot thing for them?”

“Not exactly,” Noctis admits. “I lied about them calling me. I sort of called them, and then they agreed to publish anything I asked if they could get me on the cover of one of their magazines. I figured they meant their political news mag, actually, until I got to their shoot and they interviewed me about... romance stuff... rather than political things.”

Prompto presses his lips together, blue eyes darting away from Noct’s. “About that magazine,” he starts.

He looks back at Noct, rubs at the back of his neck, lets out a light and breathy laugh. Noct’s heart catches somewhere in his throat.

“This is sort of funny— uh, or stupid, actually– but remember that quiz?”

Noctis blinks. Nods. He remembers learning that he would be a terrible match for himself. He remembers wondering whether Prompto figured out from the answers that maybe Noctis is in love with him. Maybe that’s where this conversation is going.

“I—” Prompto starts. “I lied about the result it gave me? I, uh, it told me that we were a perfect match and I sort of freaked out, I guess? Like—” He pauses, shrugs.

Breathing is very difficult. Noctis tries not to freak out too much, to keep calm. To let Prompto finish before he comes up with an excuse to make a quick exit.

“— obviously it’s just a dumb quiz in a teen magazine and it means nothing. But that’s why I ignored you the next day. Like I said it’s stupid.” He laughs. “I mean? You with me? I think we both know that wouldn’t happen in a million years.”

Noctis breathes again, even as part of him wants to scream; he still has to pretend to not be in love with his best friend. Prompto still doesn’t know that Noctis has been in love with him for years. Part of him almost hoped that maybe— well there’s no use dwelling on that now, when it so clearly isn’t true. Prompto had gone radio silent for an entire day at the idea of Noctis having feelings for him.

“Right,” Noctis says. “Yeah, that’s… stupid.”

“Are you okay?” Prompto asks.

Noctis blinks, attempts a grin he hopes is convincing. “Better than okay,” he says.

“Just now,” Prompto says, “you sounded kind of odd. Are you sure you’re okay, bro?”

Noctis nods. “Yeah,” he says.

Prompto tilts his head, eyes scanning Noct. He’s trying to figure out whether Noct’s lying, so Noct does his best to not give away anything. It’s difficult, though. He’s not quite sure whether Prompto figures him out, but he lets them drop the subject anyway.

“Okay,” Prompto says, “you want to get dinner?”

///

A loud knock at the door startles Noctis awake. He groans, rolls over and gropes in thick comforter for his phone. He finds it and sees a few missed calls from Ignis, as well as texts from both Ignis and Gladio.  He also notices that the numbers on his lock screen read _3:00_. Astrals, had he really slept in that late?

And to think Ignis has constantly pestered him that he shouldn’t stay in bed until one his entire life.

The knock comes again, loud and insistent—  _Gladio_ , Noct thinks— as he rubs his eyes and slowly pushes back the covers of the bed before getting up and heading to the door.

“Sleeping Beauty is awake at last,” Gladio says by way of greeting. “You slept through your training. Iggy thought you might be dead, but I told him not to worry. He’s busy taking some cooking class from a master chef today.”

“Are you just here—” Noctis pauses to yawn. “— to ride my ass?”

Gladio scoffs. “Well, no. I’m here to make sure you’re _okay_ since you haven’t been answering your phone.”

“I must have accidentally turned off vibrate,” Noctis said. “Or it got silenced in my comforter.”

Gladio holds out a plastic bag of take-out and Noctis glances down at it before letting him inside the apartment. Gladio walks toward the kitchen, places the bag on the counter, and then grabs a set of plates for them from the cabinets.

“Probably not as good as Iggy’s cooking,” he says, piling the steaming noodles onto each of the plates. “But beggars can’t be choosers. Especially not when they sleep in until late afternoon.”

“You’ve been spending too much time with Ignis,” Noctis observes.

Gladio ignores the comment to say, “Iggy told me about your little romantic gesture for Blondie. How’d it go?” Before Noctis has the chance to answer, Gladio adds, “Just _please_ don’t act like thirteen-year-old virgins when you’re together in front of me or I will have to beat you both up at the same time.”

Noctis rolls his eyes. “I would hope that most thirteen-year-olds are virgins.”

“You know what I mean.” Gladio says. He pauses to take a large bite out of his noodles. Then he says. “So when’s the wedding?”

“Shut _up_ ,” Noct says. “Nothing happened. I just gave him the magazine and that was it.”

“Have you tried just telling him how you feel? I mean it’s just Prompto.”

“Have _you_?” Noctis replies, “I mean it’s just Ignis.”

Gladio sucks on his teeth, and nods slowly. Noctis almost worries he’s gone too far, he almost considers apologizing, but then Gladio says, “Okay, that’s fair I guess. But, come on, Noct. What’s the worst that could happen?”

“Well, he suspected I had feelings for him and he ignored me for a whole day, so.”

“Really? That’s what that was about? Shit,” Gladio says. “I thought for sure— nevermind.”

“You thought for sure?” Noctis asks, because Gladio doesn’t get to start thoughts and not finish them. Not thoughts about Prompto anyway, not when they could even make Noct feel a fraction less hopeless. Noctis pushes around the noodles on his plate with the silverware in his hands.

“I thought for sure you’d finally tell him how you felt. I mean c’mon, Noct.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Noctis claims.

Gladio raises an unimpressed eyebrow. “Right. Well, all I’m saying is that you guys are practically already dating. I mean you spend more time with each other than anyone else. Is it possible you misunderstood what he was saying?”

“No,” Noctis says. “He told me that he took the quiz in that stupid teen magazine and it told him he were a perfect match and it freaked him out so much he ghosted for a day. Is there really any other way to understand that?”

Gladio hums, then shakes his head. “Well, you already made it clear I’m the last person you want advice from. Maybe you could ask Ignis again.”

Noctis pouts. “He’ll just tell me to tell Prompto how I feel for the billionth time.” He bites his lip. “I don’t need advice, anyway,” he decides.

“You could just try flirting with him and seeing how he reacts.”

“What if he freaks out?”

“Then you play it off like a joke,” Gladio says.

Noctis narrows his eyes. It’s not a _horrible_ idea, really.  Why has Noctis been getting all his advice from Ignis when Gladio’s been here all along too? It’s not a master plan, and really Noctis could have come up with as much himself.

He sets his fork down next to his plate, metal clattering against the granite of the countertop. “Thanks, Gladio,” he says, “who would have thought you’d actually be helpful?”

Gladio rolls his eyes. “Don’t push it, Prince Charmless.”

///

Noctis convinces Prompto to go to the arcade with him. It’s something that they haven’t done since their second year of high school. Once Noct managed to beat the high score on Justice Monsters, there wasn’t really any reason to keep coming back.

The dim overhead lights and flashing lights from the games— blue, green, purple— make enough of a shadow that Noctis feels a little more comfortable testing the waters of his relationship with Prompto here.

“C’mon, bro!” Prompto says, skipping ahead of Noct and waving him towards the Justice Monsters game in the corner. Now it’s an obsolete thing, ancient and dusty. Noctis’ game is rusty, and it shows when he loses with barely 500 points.

“Hey, look,” he says, pointing to the pixeled initials on the high-score screen. “My name’s still there.”   _NLC_ , now in the second row. “Who the heck is _ISS_ and how did they beat my score?”

“Aren’t those Ignis’ initials?” Prompto asks.

Noctis grumbles in response and then Prompto’s bent over laughing. He wants to be mad about his high-score being stolen away by his advisor, but he quickly forgets about. Prompto’s laugh has always made Noct feel like he’s walking on air. Warmth spreads through his chest, and he grins back at Prompto.

Prompto’s laughter dies down, but he’s still grinning, eyes shining under the blue-purple-green lights. Noctis really wants to kiss his best friend right now. He doesn’t.

“Hey,” Prompto says, grabbing Noct’s wrist and pulling him away from Justice Monsters before he can become too obsessed with taking his high-score back (or do something stupid, like ruin everything with his best friend.) “Let’s go play that dance game. I bet I can still beat you.”

Noctis obliges, happy to make Prompto happy.  His wrist is too warm where Prompto’s fingers lock around it, and a pit of disappointment opens in his stomach when they reach the game and Prompto lets go. He realizes, distantly, that he can’t keep going on like this.

After they play a few rounds of the dance game, which Prompto _does_ win. “Only because I let you,” Noctis makes sure to note, though it’s more likely because Noctis was too distracted the whole time.

“Let’s get ice cream,” he suggests.

Prompto grins. “Yes! Great idea, bro. I’ve been craving something sweet all afternoon. Is that how you feel _all_ the time?”

Noct lets out a breath through his nose, shakes his head slightly.

They order their ice creams at the counter outside the arcade. Noct gets strawberry, and Prompto— to Noctis’ chagrin— gets mint chocolate chip. Despite Prompto’s protests, Noctis pays for both of them. It sort of makes him feel like they’re on a date, and he wonders whether Prompto thinks the same.

“Thanks, buddy,” Prompto says, smiling wide, once they’re sitting at a stone bench.

The sun’s low on the horizon, tinging the sky orange and pink. They’re the only people sitting out here, not that inside the arcade was anywhere close to crowded. But out here, without the dimmed lights, there’s less cover for Noct to hide in. Out here, he can every one of Prompto’s freckles.

“It’s nothing,” Noctis says, eating his own ice cream, not looking at him. He decides, at the last second to take Gladio’s advice. He looks up. “I like doing stuff for you.” He feels his cheeks heat up as he says the words aloud. He’s sure Prompto notices, there’s no way he doesn’t out here.

Prompto’s crystal eyes blow wide, he blinks, and he stutters, “Ah— You— you do?”

“Yeah,” Noct says, “is that… is that weird?”

Prompto recovers from the surprise. “Nah, I mean,” he laughs, but the cadence sounds off, “we’re best bros, right?”

Noct isn’t quite sure what possesses him to keep going, other than maybe sheer stupidity. “It’s— well, it’s more than that,” he says.

Prompto bites into the sugar cone of his mint ice cream, chews it slowly. Each passing second makes Noct’s heart beat faster. This is it, he thinks. The end of their friendship in one way or another. Either Prompto rejects him outright and never speaks to him again, or he lets him down easy and they go on pretending this never happened, but things never feel the same. He can’t take the words he just said back.

Finally, Prompto speaks. “What do you mean by that?” he asks, eyes on his almost-finished ice cream, blonde lashes fluttering.

Noctis wants to kiss him so much it physically hurts.

“That stupid quiz,” Noctis says, speaking before he manages to even finish the thought first, “the one that said I’d fall head over heels for you before you realized it? It was right.”

“You’re—” Prompto starts. He pauses, brow furrowing. And it’s really cute, but Noctis doesn’t get to fully appreciate it because his heart is pumping so fast he feels like he may explode without warning at any second. “You’re in love… with _me_?”

“Kinda,” Noctis says. He’s never been so scared in his life.

Then Prompto leans forward, and he kisses Noct, and Noct thinks he’s dead. He must have died on the spot. But that’s not the case, because he can taste the mint ice cream on Prompto’s lips, and he wonders whether Prompto can hear Noct’s heartbeat, thrumming loud against his own ears.

Prompto pulls away, presses his lips together.

“You don’t hate me,” Noctis says.

Prompto grins. “Good observation, buddy,” he teases.

Noctis pouts. “You can’t call me _buddy_ after you just kissed me.”

Prompto laughs, and Noctis can’t stop himself. He leans forward now, and they’re kissing again. Noctis thinks he never wants to stop, but they have to. Breathing is (unfortunately) a necessity and they’re also in a very public place in Insomnia, where Noctis is _Prince_ , and if only because Ignis would have his head if pictures of he and Prompto ended up in the tabloids, he forces himself to pull away.

“So,” Prompto says, “does this make us like _boyfriends_ now?”

Noctis’ cheeks heat up. It’s ridiculous that the suggestion makes him blush when they were just kissing, full on display, and he just admitted to Prompto he’s in love with him. Still. He rubs at the back of his head and says, “If you want to be.”

“I’d like that.” Prompto grins. He glances down, then up at Noct. “Say, _boyfriend_ , do you think you could get me a few napkins?”

Noctis glances down too, to see the mint ice cream melted all over Prompto’s hand. He pulls a face. “That’s your fault for kissing me,” he says, "and being a slow eater.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading this little thang. it was fun to write.

**Author's Note:**

> i'm @keishn_ on twitter if ya wanna be friends ;)


End file.
